


The Wonders of Sleep

by Spacegaywritings



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Baking, Care, Cooking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Food, Friendship, Gen, Male Friendship, Napping, Other, Reconciliation, Self Care, Sleep, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trust, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24478183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacegaywritings/pseuds/Spacegaywritings
Summary: A bunch of oneshots on Virgil making sure the other sides sleep after long days of work and being busy.This time, Logan has pulled an allnigher and still refuses to sleep until a certain intervention stops him from getting more coffee.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 8
Kudos: 166





	1. Productive Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Heyho! I hope you like the story! I will regularly update it as it is prewritten *fully*!! Feel free to comment and leave kudos ♥ It is greatly appreciated!

Loud typing filled the air of the commons. Tips and traps were emitted by the consistently pestered keyboard as Logan was writing away at a first draft of logical facts that would end up woven into the latest script of yet another episode of the Sanders Sides series Thomathy had created.

His unoccupied hand reached for the cup of coffee, his fingers wrapping around its handle. It was cream white. A colour fitting into basically any setting. This is why Logan appreciated it. No matter what or where, a good cream colour fit any occasion or location.  
It definitely aligned with the rest of furniture Patton had asked Roman to put into their common space.

When he brought the cup up to his lips, eyes still fixed on the illuminating screen, he stilled down. It was empty. While a bit of remaining smell of dark, unsweetened and bitter coffee greeted him, there was no replenishing liquid left to clear up his senses.  
Not to speak of his expanding on his capacity to stay awake further.

“How unfortunate”, he mumbled to himself as he placed the mug back onto the table and retreated his hand to finish typing up his section.  
Finally.  
He was not fully done but at least a part of it was ready to be send over to Roman.

He closed his laptop, glancing over the time in the bottom left corner of the screen.  
2:49 am  
This was not exactly the prime time of productivity but he had yet to write a frame of safety measurements and otherwise logistic concerns for Roman to consider. It was just a list of things he had to bring up in a meeting with the others in order to make these short videos Thomas made, as well.  
To be fair, it just made him remember “vines”. To Logan, these compilations of short sketches were nothing but “vines”. They had to be put into quotations as they were not actual vines such as the plants.

He got u-.  
No, he did not.  
Instead of raising to his feet, Logan got somewhat stuck in the process. His butt barely left the soft couch but did not get any further. A certain amount of weight pushed him back down to his seat. 

How odd.

Logan looked down, mug in his hand and nothing but an empty grab into air with his unoccupied fingers.  
Apparently Virgil had placed himself onto his lap while he was immersed in work - not literally, of course, just mentally. It was another of these metaphorical expressions he had picked up.

“Virgil, what are you doing here?”

There was no answer.  
Huh, strange. Virgil was usually more than fast to shoot back any retort but there was really nothing but silence, not even a flinch.  
Any movement and sound were cancelled out.

Logan squinted, leaning a bit over Virgil to look at his face. It was mostly covered in his bangs. Other than that, he was facing away from Logan, more towards the table with the laptop on it. He had not even realised the weight of a whole head and a pair of shoulders nestling on his lap.  
Now there was Virgil and he could not get up to the coffee machine and make himself more coffee.

“Virgil, please, this is highly unproductive.”

Maybe it was one of these practical jokes Virgil explained to him? It was worth a “shot” to try and appeal to Virgil from blocking him.

“This is highly unproductive. It is almost 3am, please let me continue on with my work. Anxiety? Are you ignoring me?”

He stared into the closed yes he could see with his back arching a bit further. Virgil looked peaceful.

They had accepted him a while ago and it had become more and more usual for him to come around and hang out with them despite him having enough after even a few minutes. It must have been due to a lack of consistent social interaction, Logan assumed, for now Virgil was more likely to stay even when a lot of them were together and actively engaging.  
It was nice to have a calm person around, especially when Roman and Patton had especially intense days of being... an extra “handful”. Logan did not even know how to phrase it.

He blinked.

Now that he thought about it, the weight was sort of nice, maybe hindering him from getting more coffee and postponing his sleep further, yet still somewhat comforting.  
It sounded odd but apparently, people sleep better with extra weight since it reduces anxiety and gives the body a feeling of comfort.

“Virgil?”

He did not want to wake up the other but he still called for him. It was another illogical action he found himself indulge in more and more.  
Sometimes it felt as if the interactions he had with the others made him somewhat dense to sensible actions. Why would he say Virgil’s name for no reason? The idea of risking his sleep was rather bad, to be frank. Virgil needed sleep, it was also 3 am - since when was Virgil on his lap?

When did Logan get his last coffee? He only remembered sitting down to start on his work in the evening and now it was very early in the morning.

Well, he did still have a lot of work left to finish . . . Thomathy relied on him.

“Virgil, please, I have work to do. I really need to keep going.”

He looked down at the unmoving body and sighed.

Nothing, not even a single reaction.  
If Virgil was secretly awake, he was being rather persistent albeit rather calm about it. Usually, even the slightest bit of stress had him react intensely - which made sense considering he was the metaphysical embodiment of anxiety.

“I have to finish. Roman and Patton will be lost without me and it will cause you more work to deal with, Virgil.”

He glanced over the laptop and opened again.  
If Virgil did not move, then he would work until he would pass ou-

Wait.

Exhausting himself until late into the night and even further meant that Thomathy had to be awake still, had to be awake because of him.

Logan shoved his glasses up and rubbed his closed eyes. They were so warm.  
He cleared his throat and opened up his mouth to speak to nobody in particular.

“I.. I consider this a good time to catch up on my lost weeks of sleep as there is nothing better to do. Seeing as Virgil has fallen asleep on me”, he declared. Maybe he was addressing Virgil. He certainly was shutting down his idea laptop and putting it back into its respective bag.

“Well, then. I will succumb to temporary nonsense for now - but only for as long as my mind needs to rest."

His fingers pushed away the packed up laptop which nudged the empty coffee mug. Another hand wrapped around Virgil in the now completely dark room.  
With the light of the laptop gone, only the faint lights in the kitchen (a sort of night light Patton had insisted on) illuminated the living-room a bit.

Logan adjusted a bit and managed to eventually bring his legs around Virgil’s body and pull the other close to his chest before he buried them in a big blanket.  
Props to Patton for keeping blankets in about any space this house knew. A freezing Morality was an inventive side, Logan noted down in appreciation.

As he cuddled into the couch cushion, he wrapped his arms around Virgil, glasses abandoned on the coffee table.

“Thanks for the reminder, Virgil. I really forgot how late it had gotten.”

The logical side allowed himself to fall asleep to the regular rhythm of Virgil’s calm breathing. He could not see the curled up side smile but he knew for a fact that the other was less asleep than he pretended to be.

One side down.


	2. Dreams sweeter than a Popsicle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton has been cooking and baking all day because Thanksgiving is near, and since Thomathy had proven himself a worthy enough cook last time his brothers were not around to assist, he is now supposed to do much more work than before. Of course the dad-guy side needs to jump in and take matters into his hands.   
> Only Virgil thinks that baking and cooking from earliest of mornings to evening is a bit too much, even for the altruistic side. It is time to lure him into a little (cat) nap!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: nap, puns, baking, food mention, overworking, patton, virgil, thomas, thanksgiving, eating, popsicle, best friends, most dynamicest dueost duo in the entire thomasphere, pillow forts, fluff, domestic fluff, stuffies, cat stuffie, bunny stuffie, nicknames, moxiety, piggy back ride, struggling to self-care, references to POF/SVS 2, sleep over, back pain, feet pain, (no injury), friendship, caring about one another, mutual support, love

“Another tray coming in!”

Patton set another pie onto the kitchen counter.  
This was the third pie he had baked this today, among a whole pan of sweet potatoes with roasted marshmallows molten on top of them.

The kitchen was a festival for the sweet tooth’s nose! The roasted marshmallows gave the air an innocently sweet waft while the pies added a slight sourness to it as some sort of contrast. It was an explosion of sweet, sour and playful scents and they combined to an intensity that Virgil felt as if he could open his mouth and bite a bit off the tasty air.  
While he could not do that, he certainly helped Patton enough (once he had been awake enough) to get the rests of the bowl and sneak a cherry or raspberry here and there. He had not been fast enough for the pumpkin.

“Wow, Pat. This is like three pies already.. You done any time soon? We have a whole kitchen of sweets now, I think that’s enough.”

Virgil looked at the lined up pies Patton had already made over the course of the day. He had come in late to join him since he was busy panicking over stress for Thomathy (one of his most important activities in the day - this was literally his work). There was cherry, apple and now a fresh pumpkin pie.

“Aw, Virgil”, Patton cooed as he turned around to face the other and engulf him in a loving hug, “don’t you worry about your good old Patton cake baking some patent cake.”

He giggled to himself.

“I am just messing around - those are pies.”

Virgil nodded tentatively, his eyebrows stricken together as if to mimick the “doubt” meme. He was generally a walking meme, not that Patton would really grasp the joke of his actions and expressions. If it was no pun, then it was not Patton’s type of humour.

“Thank you for the help, Virgil. If you are tired, you can go.”

The moral side pulled away. Well, tried to pull away.   
Virgil stubbornly held onto the man.

“Eggselent try but you are going to take a break. You have done more than enough for Thomas. Thanksgiving will be full of food. Take a breather and relax.”

The man with glasses tilted his head.

“Oh, but kiddo, I am not done yet. Thomas still has a pecan pie planned and I wanted to make Jell-o in different flavours as little cubes, so it is fun to eat them, you know?”

The anxious trait stubbornly shook his head and tugged Patton closer.

“If I make a pun, will you come to bed with me and snuggle up for a short nap? We can bake all night after this, but we have to rest so Thomas can relax, too. We know Thomas needs to take care of himself - this means we have to stop at some point.”

Patton looked at him, a struggle in his hazel eyes.

“I... I know.”

His eyes were screaming “yes” and “no” at the same time, knowing it was right but internally pushing himself to keep going, to keep working and fulfil his duty. He had to make Thomas’ family proud and to make them and any other guest happy!

Virgil gave him a sympathetic smile.

“It is okay to say “no” to others and take care of yourself.”

The former dark side turned, slightly dissolving their embrace by removing one of his arms from the loving hug.  
He pointed at Thomas who tiredly sat in the kitchen outside of the mindscape.

“Didn’t he do enough?”

Patton’s anguished gaze fell on their Thomas.

“He is tired, Patton. You got him out of bed early in the morning.”

He gently drew the moral side into a full-body hug again and tightly wrapped his arms around him. Virgil patted the nape of his neck.

“It is okay, Popstar. I know it is hard. Let’s go slow and clean this and take a short little nap, yeah?

The purple bundle of stitches and patches tugged the caring dad-like figure over to kitchen table. His foot pushed one of the chair legs aside, causing the seat to shift just enough for Patton to sit on it. A groan escaped him when he rested, his feet finally allowed to realise the pain they were in.

“Oh, holy butter knife, my back is aching!”

Patton rubbed his feet and sunk into the chair. With all these hours spent standing and swirling around to commit to the magic of baking, he had totally lost the sense of feeling his body and his pains.  
His whole body seemed to be sore as if Thomas had been working out a lot in the morning.

Virgil was busy loading the dish washer, clearing the oven and wiping the surfaces of about any kitchen appliance. At the top of it all, he got a popsicle for the more established side.

“Here you go, Pat.”

The receiver took the popsicle, eyes lighting up as he grew aware of the gesture.

“Oh, Virgil, but this is the last honey-lime tea popsicle”, Patton protested to which Virgil responded with a dismissive wink.  
“Take it. I will make more of them tomorrow and add mint leaves.”

The self-declared father figure nodded in delight but stayed quiet, safe for the sucking noise of him devouring the cooling treat.

“Nap time, popstar?”

Patton smiled, two sets of whites shining into Virgil’s face as he nodded willingly and stretched out his hand.

“Carry me? My feet are huuuurt”, he whined, arms stretched out.

A lop-sided grin stole itself onto Virgil’s lips.

“Sleepover time!”

“Yay!”

Virgil squatted in front of Patton and loaded him onto his back. It was time for a sleepover between the bestest of friends and greatest of duoest- eh.. duos, of course.  
Patton continued to enjoy his popsicle as he snuggled up to Virgil. By the time they arrived at Patton’s moderate door, a baby blue wooden door with a beige knob, the tired side had already slurped up the refreshing treat and was ready to relish in a little slumber party with one of his best friends.

“Thank you, Virgil... I know, I need to get better at it and I am sor-”

“psshht”, Virgil quickly interjected, “if you apologise, you will make the best friend ghosts angry.”

Patton giggled and plopped down onto his bed.

“Pillow fort?”

The other nodded and the two got down to collect plushies, pillows, blankets and sheets to create their own little castle of dreams.  
Once they were done, Patton picked up a little stuffed bunny. One of his ears was patched up multiple times and one leg was saggy from uneven distribution of filling.

“Mister Snuffles for you?”

Virgil nodded and offered his friend a little black cat with eyes yellow like the rising full moon.

“Punny Purr!”

Patton took the faux kitten into his arms and hugged her close to his chest.

“Good night, Patton, Mister Snuffles, Punny Purr.”

The former dark side curled up in the safety of the pillow fort. Patton joined in on the fun and cuddled up to his missing half.

“Friends forever, kiddo”, he mumbled sleepily.

The two chuckled. 

“Forever and even ever after.”

“Mhm..”

Patton wiggled further into Virgil’s arms and relaxed in his loose grip. Their little stuffies were snuggled up together between the two sides’ chests.

They deserved a good nap after being two busy bees, after all.


	3. Princely Duties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman wants to pursue yet another adventure despite his exhaustion. He is convinced into a small break by Patton and enjoys a short meal. After he recovers, he is yet again ready to strive for another success against the Dragon Witch.  
> Well, he might have to stand up one of their friendly battles in favour of pursuing the duties of being a good prince... and friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: dragon witch, roman, virgil. Janus and patton are side characters, food mention, adventures, mentions of logan, sleep, bridal style carrying, softness, prinxiety, virgil’s room, LAMP softness, fluff, domestic fluff, nicknames (not that they are good lol)

“Please just rest before you head out again?”

Patton placed everyone’s plates on top of one another, silently stacking them. The underside of Roman’s plate scratches against Logan’s former one. 

“Thank you for the dinner, Patton. It was lovely as always. You are a great cook.”

The logical side was already on his way out after he spoke these words. It was Patton’s turn on operating the kitchen. Yes, they all took turns, so everyone got to eat and work properly. After all, together with Janus they were five sides. Remus did not comply to the idea of cooking actual food and bringing about order into the kitchen - Patton was working on it.

Logan left and Janus went to help Patton carry the rest inside as Roman leaned back, a small pout adorning his lips.

“But Patton, I already rested long enough to enjoy your hearty meal. Do you really need me to stick around any further? You know I am a Knight and a Prince at that! I have to travel the lands and harvest every and all adventures I can get my sword on!”

A big grin took over his lips, fighting away the pout. The spirit of adventuring had him once more and he was gripped by the idea of running out and about.

A loud thunder could be heard. It was stretching over the atmosphere, groaning and grumbling as if to prove Roman’s fantastic imagination wrong.  
How rude.

The prince glared at the windows, his eyes a disapproving shade of maroon.

“Even the weather is trying to get into my ways! How incredibly and incredulously ru-”, he stopped, looked at his side. The weight of another side bore against him in unfamiliar warmth.

Janus and Patton were back, standing in the door frame between kitchen and living-room. Janus had a special expression on his face.. Roman could not quite decipher it but it might have been something like pride. Hard to say with a slimey snake face like his but it made him think.  
Why would he be proud of him? Because he was pushing for more adventures - a form of self-care? Perhaps.

The creative side shifted his gaze from the caring couple of sides and turned to see the source of weight.

Ah. Virgil.  
The embodiment of the fight-or-flight response was satiated and curled up against him.

.. how inconvenient considering his current plans.

“Padre, do you have a free hand to help me with Virgil? My Fair Lady seems to be rather comfortable on me.”

His eyes laid on where Patton had been before but he and Janus flinched out of sight as if it was a game of Catch.  
Roman could not believe it! Traitors! Right before his virtuous eyes!  
How dare they?!

“You go take care, kiddo!”, Patton called under a fit of giggles. Janus mumbled something as a comment. He could not make out the whole sentence but he definitely heard the word “good”.

Did they plan this?

His head snapped around, back into position to watch over Anxiety once more.  
The small bundle of stitches and horrible fashion choices was dissolved into a puddle of snores so silent, it sounded like a hamster breathing at night.  
He almost felt bad about wanting to wake him up but the adventures called him - the Dragon Witch was expecting him. If he did not come around to face her, what would she think? She would assume he had fled in fear or similar cases of cowardice and unprincely feelings or behaviours.

“Virgil, come on. I have things to do! Just get up and go to sleep, go to bed!”

He gently shook the stuck-to-him purple blop.

“By the holy scripts of insolence, Virgil you spinning spider, I have a dragon witch to slay. Can’t you fall asleep on Patton or play Sleeping Beauty with Janus?”

The creative side continued shaking the side’s shoulder but not even he considered just leaving and letting Virgil fall onto the once warmed spot of the abandoned couch. It felt.. too much to do just this. Somehow, Roman found himself obliged to take care of Virgil like he would take care of any other task - with duty.

“Alright, Pouty Pentagon of dark spirits, I will carry you to bed. You better be having the greatest of dreams and adventures in your deep sleep, former fiend.”

Roman gently let one of his arms drop low enough to curl around Virgil’s shoulder blades. His body shifted a bit and gently pushed one arm under the anxious side’s knees.  
He slowly pulled him closer and eventually, as he was close enough for Roman to hold him with great stability, he lifted him up and carried him like one spouse would carry the other.

The sound of his steps were swallowed by his careful stride. While making little to no sound, he reached the end of the corridor and pushed Virgil’s old door open. It was dark, painted and plastered in posters and stickers of warnings and rebellions among several “Keep out”s and epically tragic quotes likes “Abandon all hope ye who enter”.  
It was very much like him.

Every side’s door was completely personalised according to their personality and taste. He could see his own door further up the corridor. It was a regal portal of extraordinary frenzy.  
Virgil’s door seemed like a broken down ruin compared to the angelic appearance of his own room.

“Here we go”, Roman announced as he stepped into the dark cavity that was Virgil’s retreat. It was so dark, he barely saw anything but a few little star stickers Roman, Logan and Patton had gotten the other as a little welcoming gift.  
He used the little illumination as navigation and moved towards the wall they were on, the wall right behind Virgil’s bed.

”There, there, Knight of the Night.”

Creativity bowed over the mess of patched-up blankets (much like Virgil’s jacket) and let the curled up bundle of Virgil plop down into the middle of it all.  
He pulled away - tried to - but Virgil had his fingers tangled up in Roman’s royal red sash.

The audacity!  
Intense crimson hung from his uniform, kept straightened by the weight of a sleeping man.  
He let out a shaky breathe and slowly brought his hands up to the sash, his fingers working to untangle Virgil’s grip on his sacred sash with patience and precision.   
As an artist, he knew how to work on things slowly with a certain sense for intricate weaving of his own fingertips without getting tangled up in a mess himself but before he could pull back his freed sash, he realised his mistake.

Once again, Patton must have fooled him. He was holding Virgil’s hands with his own.

“I think I must surrender to your stubbornness, little storm cloud.”

He let himself sink into the mattress in peace, a sigh of unconscious relief escaping him. Roman manoeuvred his arms around Virgil in a sort-of hug.  
Yes, you see it, people. Open up your eyes, shippers, this is a big spoon Roman.

“Don’t think you won anything out of this, My Fair Lady”, he mumbled as he slid under the nest of blankets and closed his eyes.

Another battle was won. The Dragon Witch could go home, undefeated and unquestioned in her position while Roman practiced the one thing he needed to work on.  
Self-care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! Feel free to comment and leave kudos!


	4. You are a Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is in another chaotic frenzy and refuses to calm down, so Virgil has to step in and convince the Dark Creativity that sleep can be fun too. At least Thomas well get to rest with this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chap will be good for my inner peace)
> 
> Tags: Remus things! Talks about murder, death, violence, inflicting pain etc on others/self (your basic favourites in intrusive thoughts), weapons, brutality, Remus, virgil, dukexiety, the duke of nonsense and bullshit, caps, angery remus, moth man/ rat man mentions, sexual innuendo, food, (eating) worms, plants, weird living conditions, disgusting room description, absolute chaos, caring about thomas, mutual care, fluff, domestic fluff, swearwords, lotsa cursing, dismissive nicknames, self harm (mention)

A gargantuan mace hit the ground, sending splitting stones and other pieces of damaged ground flying through the heart of the imagination.

“KILL HIM, I SAY!” 

Dark Creativity screeched into the air. He ripped the mace out of the ground with great effort and immediately struck the ground with a loud war scream.  
His deafening screams and yells filled the vast emptiness of the mindscape. Other than that, the slightly more silent noise of Remus consistently breaking and devastating the rocks and mountains of the desert he was in.

“Thomas just needs to get a simple baseball bat and SMASH HIS SKULL IN!”

Remus repeated his motion of shattering the bleeding ground as he hurled his mace out and behind his back for the maximum amount of swinging power science would give him.

“No more PAY! No more BILLS!”

He worked the mace down into the ground, his whole body following the movement. His upper body went down with the large weapon and stopped just shy of the unsteady ground, splitting it.  
A growl could be heard. It erupted from the depths of the ground could as the dark floor slowly drove itself away from one another in two halves. 

The Duke’s rage had halved the currently imagined world.  
He freed his mace and brought it back to his chest. One of his hands brushed over the end of it, the one without stabby spikes! Still a pretty side, to Remus.  
A little light bubble, dark pink, grew at said end with a bit of distance to the stick-part itself.

Remus shook the mace, letting the spikes give way to nothing but a long, black stick. Once the hurty spikes were gone, he YEETED the consistently expanding bubble in front of him and repeated.

“KILL HIM!”

The bubble manifested itself in the air, sticking to the invisible laws of the Duke’s whimsy. Slowly, a picture started to fade onto the dark background. Thomas could be seen, holding a bat. It was just as Remus had predicted.  
The scene became crystal clear and with a simple snip of his fingers, Thomas moved as if trapped in the gifset of a violent mind. He bashed into his head, again, again, again and again as Remus chanted in moral support.

“GO! YES! GO! AGAIN! MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE-”

“Remus.”

The Imagination shifted at once, the bubbling magma morphing into a small river while the dark ground, the stones and rocks and destruction turned into a field of grass.  
While the air remained heavy, the bubble popped and Remus’ stick became nothing but an elegant twig.

“Why are you up so late?”

Creativity growled in response and shook his body like a wet dog. His flouncy outfit floated as if in timelapse.

“Why are you up so late? Stop asking me silly questions. I am creating.”

Virgil hopped over the small river and turned to look directly at the raging side.

“You look as if you are pouting”, he stated calmly, much like Logan would, “what got ya stinki mood up, poopy boy?”

Remus glared back at the smaller side and cleared his throat. He bowed to pick up his twig.

“My mace.”

That was definitely a pout. Remus’ lips were pursed into a pout, even his words seemed to pout despite his sentence being so short of them.  
The mustache seemed to stretch his face into a long, sad face. Maybe he was actually manipulating his appearance, maybe the facial hair really put an extra emphasis after all.

“You are the Duke of Creativity. If you want it back, you do that. Now, how about we give this financial discussion a break and fucking chill for a minute.”

Remus threw the twig away and shook his head, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Yeah, you would like that. How about Thomathy here gets it on with a hot dude and I will shut up?”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“We could eat that cockroach Thomathy squished this morning! I will get it from the trash!”

The Duke started running for time before the other could even react. Anxiety kicked in, shifting the imagination in a way, they found themselves in Remus’ messy bedroom.  
A huge vine came out of the closet and ended mid-room before the bed.. or whatever one wanted to call the mess of clothing. There was a glowing blue trail of splatter on the floor. Weapons and.. hair??? were cluttered all over the floor.   
Virgil could hear a distant slapping of meat.  
The floorboards seemed rather loose and rattled.

“My room! ROOM ROOM ROOM!”

Remus drew Virgil close.

“Emo! Look at my plant! It is really cute! It will love you!”

Virgil clung to the ever-changing mess of ideas and shook his head.

“I want to sleep, Remus. Shut up and go to sleep with me. You can wreck havoc and reek tomorrow but Thomas needs to sleep or else he will be shit in the morning.”

The man in question bounced.

“If I make Thomathy beat up himself, he will look like shit for sure!!!”

The emo rolled his eyes and nudged Remus towards the bed. He had not even expected the room to look as bad. Maybe he should have taken this to the living-room or literally any space that had a comfortable ground to lay on. He was a metaphysical being who could not really perceive pain after all - the choice to sleep was really just allowing Thomas to deal with things more calmly, at least in the case of Anxiety. Also, only given that Virgil did not deliberately clock out in order to spare Thomas any effect from his side.

“Nah, that is work. Work sucks. We wanna sleep forever and eat weird shit, right?”

Remus grumbled.  
At heart, he sort of agreed. Right now, he was driven to do things, to be active and creative or destroy and simply do as much as he could because he had that energy.

“Nap time, Dukey.”

Virgil tugged him towards the bed.

“Oh, Virgil ~ I did not know you were into this kind of thing ~”

The addressed side blushed but shook his head.

“In your dreams, fucker.”

He stepped closer to the unmoving wall of Creativity. Confidently, he let their chests collide, sending Remus backwards.  
The wavering Duke gasped in surprise and squeaked insolently.

“EmO!”, he screeches with a voice that got scratchier and scratchier by the minute. His arms flailed into any direction until he drew them in front of his chest to cross them.  
“How can you be cunning and cunt-y?”

Virgil could hear his brain yell a conditioned “language!” response at him. He literally heard Patton scold Remus in his brain. Judging from the sour look on the other’s face, the anxious trait assumed he could hear it too.

“Now you know how tiring it can be to hear something in you, that you can’t stop? Pretty fucking shitty, huh? Move, babysitting you is tiring.”

The reveal of a long, pink tongue was the response but Remus kicked off his boots and patted his clothings until they dissolved into some sort of magical glitter dust. It silently trickled down onto the floor and was blown into all directions of the room.  
This place really had a mind of its own. Not that Virgil really minded this.

“Good Remus”, Virgil praised softly as he joined the other on the bed. They laid down together and Virgil kicked a bundle of weapons and books off the bed, “oops. My bad. I thought it was your pet raccoon.”

Remus giggled.

“No! That is you!”

Virgil shook his head, grinning into his oversized mess of a self-ruined jacket. The Duke looked at him in his own naked glory and patted the space next to him. To join him on the fun, he eyed the stack of his dirty single socks collection and gave it a strong kick.

“PARTY!”

“Nooo, nap time. We wanted to be nice to Thomas and fuck shit up tomorrow.”

Creativity blinked at Virgil. A rare occasion. The blinking and directly looking at someone. He usually just stared into something nobody but him could see. It was chilling and so deeply terrifying, Thomas would feel it in his bones when anyone but Logan or the (former) Others interacted with him.

“You will join me?”

Virgil threw his head back as he slowly snuggled up to Remus, filling the spot he had previously patted. A groan escaped his lips and he let his head roll against Remus’ shoulder.

Instead of answering, he clapped his hands together, summoning a little bowl he thrusted into Remus’ hands.  
The bowl was full of little gummy worms which looked surprisingly disgusting with how slimy and wet they appeared to be. They had a certain shine to them and the colour was so unnaturally neon orange, they were glowing in the dim lighting of the Duke’s room.

“Have a cursed snack and get your creative energy into a fucked up sex dream instead of making Thomas uncomfortable. He’s got some shit to do tomorrow.”

Silence took over the room.   
Virgil caused some rustling sounds as he curled up next to Remus. The room was surprisingly un-stinky compared to what he had expected.  
Loud chewing sounds interrupted the momentary silence.

It was good while it lasted but Virgil was willing to trade his own discomfort for the sake of Thomas’ well-being. He needed his sleep with another tough schedule coming up.

“Virgil?”

He hummed in response.

“Are you anxious because of the new projects they planned?”

The former dark side curled further into himself, shaking his head stubbornly.  
Chewing sounds continued for a bit until Remus took a small break and suddenly snapped his head back and emptied the whole bowl into his mouth. Without even moving his jaw to chew, he swallowed his big ball of cursed sweets and made a lewd lip-smacking sound.

Virgil opened his mouth to comment on how disgusting the other was but he interrupted him.

“Come cuddle. It is okay to be scared. I will eat your mean anxiety.”

He shook his head. The Duke turned to pull Virgil into a hug. The anxious side chuckled.

“This is not how I work.”

“Yeah, but it is how I work.”

“Whatever, Remus. Shut up if you wanna cuddle, you rat man.”

It was Remus’ turn to chuckle.

“You just wish I was moth man!”

Virgil shook his head, smirking into Remus’ neck. He finally allowed himself to close his eyes and hold onto the other.

It was silent.  
For real.  
Within minutes, Remus was asleep and Virgil was ever so silently snoring, nobody could hear it.


	5. Meet the Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil usually knows how to take care of others but at some point, someone needs to take care of him too. It is hard to top the Queen of Self Care :tm: in her own business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Just in time for Remus' birthday week - some good old fucking fluff.
> 
> Tags: little pet snake “Deathbringer”, POF included, anxceit, fluff, domestic fluff, tea party, kidnapping mention, mention of 411 (if kidnapping and conspiracy/alien stuff scares you PLEASE do NOT look it up!), accidental deadnaming, ex-paranoia Virgil, reconciliation, softness, family to enemies to ..friends?, food, momceit vibes, Janus Classy “Deceit” Sanders, crying, tears, reconciliation, mentions of past friendship/familial relationship, mentions of betrayal, hurt, slight patton/virgil angst, hurt and COMFORT, making up, sleepy talk (if you are triggered by babyspeak and it is really sensitive, maybe this could be too much!)

Janus gently nudged his little snake.

“Deathbringer, come help me here.”

The little snake obediently slithered over the kitchen counter and quickly wrapped around the little bit of space on his wrist that was neither covered by his lemon gloves nor by his coal sleeve.

“Look what a good little snake you are”, he cooed.

The side gently pushed his nose against the smaller snake’s snoot, letting their scales collide for a short moment. The snake bleped at him and he stuck out his tongue in return.

“Yes dear, I am absolutely not excited either.”

A small smile appeared on the side of his face that looked just like Thomas, just like about any other side there was for him.  
He glanced at the door for a bit.

“He will totally be late. He is the kind of person to be late to meetings rather than ditch them in a sudden bout of panic.”

Scaled fingers brushed over his apron. Deathbringer let her tongue snap against his wrist and pulled just a bit closer, her silverish body slithering slowly. It was such an act of art, Janus could not help himself but watch for another moment.

“Thank you, Deathbringer.”

The snake seemed to squeeze her little eyes together in a little squint. She pushed against hist gloved hand.  
Janus hummed and picked up the oven mittens. A few biscuits could be seen on it. He walked them over to a decorate plate. It was shaped like a little snake, much like his logo. It read “Eat the Rich.”

A sense of peace came over him and settled in his light heart. It was some sort of happy singing within him even though outside he was not singing, just humming to the slow songs he played.

One by one, he arranged the biscuits on the new plate while Deathbringer slithered down to push the mugs into place and pull the little porcelain white box of sugar cubes closer. It had a little lid which made it look like a box. The lid was flouncy while still made of nothing lighter than fabric at all. It would not float yet pretended to be able to.

Sometimes it was just about pretence, he thought to himself.

A fade sound knocked at his ear. It was so silent, it felt like the demand to please make a sound if he just allowed him to, if he gave the sound the authorisation to actually make noise, do what it would do.

“Ah, Virgil. You arrived just in time. Sit down, have some tea.”

The snake boy returned to the tea pot which was happily brooding and boiling inside. His steps were so light, Virgil could have sworn he was flying.

Was this a crazy tea party?  
No, this was not Remus. This would be proper.  
In fact, it would be so proper, Virgil even put on his purple dress shirt - despite wearing his oversized, heavy jacket. It was a part of him not even a Janus Classy Deceit Sanders would be able to change with his rhetoric delights and shape-shifting abilities.  
Virgil’s choice of clothing was deeply rooted in his function as anxiety. Much like Janus dressed according to his own tastes and needs. According to how he felt he should carry out any and all work regarding Thomathy’s selfish whims and moral dilemmas.

This was the misty-eyed veil Janus swore to be “nostalgia”. He wish he could say that it meant nothing to him and let him feel nothing but Virgil was basically allergic to lies. He was a police dog for deception.   
A rough ground to stand on when you call yourself a Master of Deception yet try to rekindle the flame of intimacy with a fellow side.

“I am not on time, I am early, snake”, he dryly commented but still took off his shoes and slipped into the room in comfortably loose pant. Black as the faded eye shadow covering the bags underneath his tired and swollen eyes. Black like his soul, if he had one.

It smelled freshly baked like when he spent time with Patton. The air was warm and sweet like a welcoming hug.  
He was so glad nobody tried to touch him, though.

“You are in time for a man who knows your punctuality precedes the estimated time of whenever people ask of you to come around. If I had asked you to come early in the morning, you would ditch your night and camp before my room to be on time.”

The anxious trait mumbled something into his collar, his face falling into a darkness as one of his eyebrows rose.  
Janus turned around, tea pot in hand and his human eyebrow raising up in competition.

“Don’t be dramatic, now. I am teasing you. Not everyone is out to get you.”

Virgil bit the insides of his cheeks instead of answering. Deceit vaguely gestured towards the laid table and approached the space with his white, spheric teapot in his gloved hands. He held it like a precious little treat in his mitten-ed hands.

“Is it black?”

Anxiety slipped into a chair far away from Janus. He was very much across the whole table. Lethargically, he took in the pain of the sight that was the empty chairs around the table as Janus let steaming water flow into the cups. He seemed so enraptured by the sight of dry leaves twirling in a storm of heat, the water flowing in and turning a darker shade of colour almost upon impact.   
Little swirls of orange, no, orange-red, came from the leaves. They danced with the flow of water and easily fogged the inside of the mugs with a deep colour much like the sunset.

“It is spicy like you, Virgil. You will love it, I promise.”

Virgil had not noticed Janus’ yellow glove (it was just the one curled around the handle of the heavy pot) emerging from the wide cave of oven mittens. Something about looking at the slow, ginger acts Janus committed gave Virgil a sense of tranquillity deep inside of the core of his very existence.

”..Do you really?”

Janus blinked.  
He was glad he had set the pot down already. His little snake curled back around his left and tugged the remaining oven mitten off his right. All the while, his solid eyes stared into the deer orbs of Virgil who looked at him like a child asking their parents why they yelled at one another so much.

Something in his chest seemed to rumble. It was soundless but he could feel a shift, he could actually see before his internal eye just how a piece of him clicked together.  
Nostalgia did not sounds so bad anymore when it came from the meek, innocent voice that was Anxiety - or.. Paranoia, back then.

His voice got soft. He was soft. He was soft like the butter he had put out long ago. His feelings would form dents if touched a bit harder than brushing against them.  
“Of course I do. If I invite you, I will respectfully treat you as my guest. I do not harm guests, Pa- Virgil.”

The other side flinched and looked down for a moment. The floor was wooden. What type of person had a dark wooden floor in his room?  
Virgil chew on his lip as if to devour it like a candy bar after a long, hard day of hardships and strains.

“Virgil.”

Anxiety repeated it as if to enforce the point that was his existence.  
The other nodded as he pushed his little tea mug over to his guest. The once white mug appeared to turn transparent in heat. The mug slowly faded in colour from bottom to the top and revealed the darkening liquid inside the steaming mug.

“I know. I am - Apologies, Virgil”, he admitted softly. His voice was a little pat on the back, a gentle squeeze to the shoulder and the sympathetic smile only Janus’ human side seemed to be capable of.  
“I assume that the old times get to me. “

His eyes cast downwards for a big and he picked up his tea to busy himself. Deathbringer curled around the mug and stuck her tongue out at the colourful display. It must have looked like an aquarium of enormous fishes to the little boopnoodle.  
Deceit sat down, still looking at his tea and his hands only.

“Do you ever think back of how things used to be?”

Virgil’s teeth lifted from his lower lip. His shoulders seemed more hunch before and maybe this was the reason his eyes seemed so much darker and hurt than before.

“I ...would like to think the past is in the past.”  
The anxious trait swallowed heavily.  
“I am sick of thinking everyone will hurt me if I turn around for too long, Janus.”

Virgil took the tiny mug into his hands and blew away the steam. Maybe he hoped to blow away more than just this but his thoughts were hidden in the thick skull of his stubborn exterior.  
This was about the only thing sweet enough to remember that it washed away the bitter glue-like taste in Janus’ mouth.

“We all made mistakes. I, for once, admit to be imperfect. I always told you we are all -”

“Fallible. Yeah. I know.”

Virgil slumped further into his chair. It was dark and wooden like the floor. Even darker. Yet, it was not dark enough to eat him like a black hole. After all, some people conspired that individuals were sort of “kidnapped” by the force of a black hole. Not that this was a cut-and-dry theory but it was a thought to explain things like Missing 411.

He took a deep breath. Janus drew in his share of oxygen.

“Ja-” “Vir-”

Virgil blushed and frantically brushed and pressed his fingers against the mug which wandered from one palm into another sleeve-covered hand.

“Oh.”

He whispered so silently and gently rubbed one of his hands against his thigh. The other hand was wrapped around the mug, a fingers looped through the handle.  
It was so warm and so comforting despite the smell stinging in his eyes and nose.  
Virgil sipped a bit at it and felt the steaming temperature rinse his mouth with new heat. There was pain cutting into his tongue and a comfortable amount of burning heating up his mouth. As he swallowed, he could feel the hot liquid seep into his brain and tickle it. It was so warm and tingly.. it made him dizzy in a really nice sense.  
Like a good bit of sleep or maybe a hot bubble bath.

It almost made him smile.

Almost.

Janus put one leg over the other and blinked at Virgil.

“You can go first.”

On his tongue, the name “Virgil” burned itself into his speech.  
He had to let go off the past and move on to “Virgil”, realise that it is okay to be more like Patton and less like him.

Repression can be very bad indeed.  
He could hear the scratchy voice that could only belong to a presence as special as Remus.

“Okay”, Virgil pronounced slowly. He rolled his lips together into a tight line. It felt like hours before he took the word once more. At least this is what it seemed like to Janus.  
“I want to stop.. stop being so hurt about you.”

He blinked for one moment, just one moment, into Janus’ direction before he stared into his mug again. It was steamy and it made him tear up ..it was actually spicy as Deceit had informed him before.  
His tongue clicked into the silence. 

Deathbringer silently slid over to the teapot, unbeknownst to Janus’ as he paid attention to Virgil more than anything else in this world at the moment. If someone was to ask him whether he paid attention to Thomas and his needs at the moment, he would have to lie himself out of it as always. Not that he cared about this.  
He cared about the right now at this moment.

“I.. I want to forgive you, Janus. I was.. um, unfair to expect you to know it all and to rely on you for all there was concerning Thomas and it did not help him or me or you or anyone of the sides.”

His fingers were tightly wrapped around the mug. If he did not know better he would assume he was trying to choke the tea which looked dark red by now.  
It was ad bloody as this whole endeavour.

“Virgil -”

“No! I - I was really unfair and I know I am not fully at fault because this is not how this works, this is not how anything in this world works at all. I just.. When I saw you help Patton like this without being bitter about anything because it was for Thomas, I thought I could just stop feeling so upset about you but I still... I am still mad because of everything because I expected you to get great and you were not but this is my problem and it is bullshit to put this onto you.”

Janus’ eyebrow wiggled into a strict zigzag. He slowly leaned over the table, just a bit. The distance between him and Virgil did not decrease but something changed as he squinted at the anxious side like his eyes needed a seeing aid.

“It is not as if I have made things easy for you - or the others, for that matter.”  
Deceit fumbled with his gloves, his fingers grabbing at one another without actually succeeding in anything. There was no outcome other than repetition.  
“I wanted to apologise for being an ..”, he hesitated for a moment as he fished for the right word to say in this exact moment, “a rather insufficient role model and self-declared instructor for every single one of you.”

His left hand gently stripped his right off the lemon shell of his glove and put it aside with such a slow precision, it seemed like an old tradition that needed to be carried out with the utmost care and attention. At the same time, it appeared to him as the most simple of actions yet it was graceful just as about any action Janus performed.  
Even words were more elegant coming from him. This was what it meant to be a snake: slithering and sliding around everything and everyone. Never too much, never too little.

Janus was the definition of walking the tightrope and testing his limits. He was a Master of Balancing rather than Deception. But oh well, this was just Virgil’s opinion on that matter.

“Yeah, good for you. We done with this now?”

Virgil reached for the sugar box and picked one of the cubes to merge it into his dark pit of spicy tea. It burned, tasted of nothing but memories.  
What was that again? Trauma was nothing but spicy memories. Heh, yeah. This was really some sort of aesthetic Anxiety would subscribe to. It was so strange to encounter how, every now and then, Janus knew so little about him - and then sometimes, so much more than Virgil seemed to realise about himself.

The deceptive side shook his head.  
His state could best be described as pensive.  
Deceit’s right thumb brushed over the mug, slowly tracing along its thin rim.

“We are all growing. This is good for us. It means Thomas is growing and listening to us can help him grow more and we all can be a bit..”  
He swallowed. His tongue prepared to unleash a word so strange to his usual way of expressing himself verbally. It was a laborious chore.  
“..better.”

He dared to look up at Virgil, their eyes meeting. They were so similar yet so different. While Virgil’s were so light and changed with his emotions flickering like a candle in the wind of interactions, Janus had two different orbs. One was rigid and never-changing while the other was heavy, deep and darker - like his room’s wooden floor.

Their rooms really were reflections of their functionality and their “personality”.

“You started taking care of the others more, I have seen. Is this part of your growth?”

Virgil’s shoulders tensed at the comment but he slowly flexed his back as if to pretend this was why he had moved his shoulders in the first place. He covered up the flinch by putting it into the context of shifting into another position and becoming “more comfortable”.

Anxiety hummed in agreement.  
He retorted to drink the rest of his tea.

“You said I can get rid of you all if I give it my best. Did you mean that?”

Janus quirked up the eyebrow on the human side of his face.

“Is this why you tried to be there for the others? You want to get rid of me?”

He was sitting in his seat, his legs moving so left could cross over right now. It was just a little bit of squirming on his part but he could feel his legs trembling. The feeling to his feet was already lost.

“Why would I wanna take over the job of a liar?”

Virgil shifted, adjusting his collar.  
This tea made everything so hot. It was so spicy it burned him.  
Or was he burning him? His body felt so hot.  
This was not a nice bubble bath anymore, it was a sauna.

“I know you can speak the truth but you are here to lie to ..protect Thomas if need be. Whenever that would be or whatever. I don’t like lying. It makes me anxious. If I replaced you, I would be in contrast with myself and split.”

White teeth dug into his pale bottom lip once more. The right side of his lip had to suffer much more. It was chapped, slightly crimson in little rivulets of blood breaking through the damaged skin.

“Where is the fun in taking over Remus’ baby sitter? I only ..”, Virgil cleared his throat, “I wanted to help them.”  
He fumbled with his mug before finally giving up on whatever goal he had with his constant, aimless finger dance around the porcelain which slowly turned milky again. The transparency faded along with the precious magic of being here once more.  
At least.. in part.

“Help them? What do you mean?”

Virgil growled but Janus held up his hands in defence.

“I am only curious. You don’t have to answer to me at all. I supposed you would be open for a talk considering you came here on your own accord. You even asked me to let you come.”

He pulled off his gloves.   
The straining intensity of yellow found the sturdy table. It drew Deathbringer to not slide into the teapot as planned. Instead, she guided herself over to the strong colour without anyone paying too much mind to her. She slowly slithered into one of the gloves, effectively splitting the pair. With her new shield, she clumsily moved across the table to start her long, extensive journey.

Meanwhile, Janus conjured up the messy excuse of a hurried note.  
It was a piece of paper, lined dark black on innocent white. The piece had ripped edges, indicating it was forcefully removed from a greater object such as a notebook or a journal. Knowing Virgil, it had to be something personal.  
The handwriting was dark blue - no, not Prussian blue. The shade was darker, muddier than even Logan’s tie. It seemed so unruly and hurried that several swears ruined the legibility of the few words that were not completely crossed or blanket out with excessive streaks of more dark blue.

“Did you already forget about this? Logan said a lack of anxiety leads to weaker memory. Surely, you must be aware of how and when you let this come to me. You left it right in front of my room not too long after I was accepted.

Virgil shook his head with a force of a storm but looked away dejectedly.  
Lips parted only to close again and then, much like a goldfish’s mouth, opened up again without making even a single sound.

“I -I.. I heard of.. I heard from Patton that you would join us from now on. He said you were good and t-trying to help Thomas.”  
The name came out like a judgement.  
“We talked and you ca -came to our meetings and to our talks and when we spent time or ate-ate and Patton said it is okay because you make sure he does not hurt Thomas.”

A barrier of tears rose in his eyes.  
There was still barely any eye shadow darkening his appearance any further. Still, the feelings in his eyes strained his facial features and forced wrinkles and shadows onto his young looks.  
Anxiety was one of the most recent sides. While he had always been there, he was the one to most rapidly develop and change again and again.   
Once he was the pure instinct, then he was anxiety, then paranoia - to only name a few stages of development he had gone through. It granted him with a lot of mistakes and extreme thinking but at the same time it gave him the untouched innocence of a new person, a beginner.

He was so untainted.  
Virgil was pure - well, he used to be.

“I thought Patton could never be wrong and now I am here again and fuc-..fuck!”

He grabbed the mug hard. His knuckled turned white while all colour flew to his face. A blush of wrath spoiled his appearance and angry tears spilled down his cheeks.

“I befriended the most innocent of sides and he still hurt me and Thomas - he still messed up so much and betrayed me!”

Janus twitched in his seat, a certain.. a knowledge was sparking within him.  
But before he could leave his seat and jump over to Virgil, the anxious side flinched, a loud sob breaking from his throat and distorting the peace of the room-  
The calming background music was gone. No more soft beats and slow rhythms lead gentle voices to create the illusion of safety. The bubble was burst because he cried it away with his ferocious tears and stubborn feelings.

“I - I ... “

He helplessly let go off the empty mug and let it slide into his lap. On the side, he could see just a little hint of yellow and an instinct deeply buried inside of him leaned his head into said direction just to see there was no Janus.  
No.  
There was a little glove falling into his direction like some fucking drunkass piece of furniture in a weird shit show Remus would direct.

”Wha-”, he started, ready to jump away when the glove fell over itself and its opening revealed itself to Virgil. A little boopnoodle inside crept out of the squeak yellow means of transportation and bleped at the old friend.

His tears were soaked up.

“Deathbringer..”, he whispered in amazement.  
His voice was broken like his heart.

Shaking fingers picked up the mug and abandoned it on the table with little care. It barely stood still - a slightly sharper angle and he would have tilted it enough to tip it over.  
The primary goal was in sight. It was not the half-transparent mug. It was the little silver friend sliding over to him and happily sticking out her tongue at him.  
His hands formed a little bowl he offered to the friend. She gladly accepted and pushed herself off the edge of the table to fall into the safety of his warmth.

“You still have her..”

A weak smile pulled at his lips.  
It was half-hearted and betrayed by the storm of feelings left in him. He was drained but the emotion was genuine. Janus could see it in his eyes. The life turned back into it.

“I missed you so much, little one. What did you do, little crime snake? Did you try to steal Jan’s glove? You tiny law-breaker, you!”

He giggled, the drying tears long forgotten. Occasional sniffles disturbed the soothing atmosphere that settled onto the room. It was like the sky after a storm in Janus’ humble chamber.  
Deathbringer excitedly curled into herself so much, she rolled over once more and tumbled against the root of his thumb before sticking out her tongue just a bit, just for a moment.

Virgil hissed.  
Deathbringer hissed.  
Janus silently hisses into his mug.

It was involuntary! He swore by his name!  
The deceptive side did not mean to draw the attention back to him but it had happened with a slip of his own split-tongued mouth.  
The sharp sound filled the room, cutting through it like a high-precision master preparing sushi after decades of experience and routine.

The anxious side lethargically looked up. It was so slow, Deceit could have sworn it took a great amount of effort from him. His eyes were sparkling but they were so, so tired and old. They aged with the amount of energy he had put into neglecting himself and working to keep Thomas up and running at all times - in every aspect of his self.  
With every side he could talk to.

“Virgil.”

The side ducked, holding Deathbringer close who booped his thumb with her little head as she curled around the digit.

“Let me take care of you. Again - just this once. As a star, if you want to look at it as some sort of trial phase. We can stop if you do not enjoy it or if it feels wrong, does not help you - whatever reason is sufficient for your precious mind.”

He licked his lips, finally tasting a bit of ...hope? It was so sweet and consolatory that he did not dare to identify it as something he had deprived himself of ever since the other had left. It was too good to be true but the heat of the moment had him submit to the feelings of dreaming, of nostalgia The warm familiarity of what used to be coaxed him into the mindset that maybe.. just maybe.. things could switch back up if he played his cards right and opened up his heart.

“I.. I... Janus, I am scared”, Anxiety admitted. He brushed his unoccupied index over the little snakey friend. Gaze focused on her and only her, he barely heard Janus starting to reply to him until he cleared his throat, making him snap out of reality at once.

“Well, Virgil”, he started anew, the other side’s name rolling off his tongue like a special treat, “when are you not?”

The anxious trait shrugged.

“When was the last time you felt scared of something - scared for Thomas, perhaps?”

Janus got up, circling the table a bit before he arrived next too Virgil. Deathbringer flicked the tip of her tail at her lovely papa and snuggled her head against Virgil’s thumb where she was wrapped around.  
Gingerly, Janus pulled the chair next to Virgil closer to himself, his eyes on his guest only. He was scanning him for anything out of the ordinary - well, or anything remotely like Virgil that would alert him enough to change his actions.

The guest was watching the deceptive side but did neither flinch away nor display any signs of discomfort.  
No hissing, no fumbling.  
Even the eye shadow was still missing. There were so many feelings but the black refused to spread at all. The mandatory amount of minimum blackness covered his eyes a tad but that was about it.

He nodded towards him and cuddled into his seat as Janus seated himself next to him.

“Um.. Thomas wanted to start a new hobby but he is in his thirties and he can get hurt and did you see him jump? He is not physically the most fit and, you know, a bit clumsy and such. It does more harm than anything to start exercise so late in life because it is bad for the joints and-”

Janus rose one hand, cutting him off.

“I think I get your point. Not that I have to agree or disagree with you on that matter. The point is that this was just this morning when Thomas looked up videos and it was only about a little idea he had for one workout. You are unsettled by any change there is.”

The punk pouted at the snake, a gruff glare in his eyes.

“... I guess-”

“If even the idea of a new workout scares you, maybe you just worry a bit too much.”

Virgil looked up at him.  
Replacing the glare, there was a softness in his eyes. It was akin to a plead.

“Let me take care of you. Let me help you worry less. I will listen, I will retreat if you just say what you need, what you think.”

It was Janus’ turn to give him a begging look.

“Let me do my job, Virgil. You know I am good at it - even if I am bad at other things. Let me be who you were for the others during all these weeks ever since you were accepted by them.”

The anxious side slowly glanced at him and before averting his gaze. He stubbornly looked at the snake as if to ask Deathbringer for advice.  
The loyal baby simply rubbed the side of her face against his thumb’s underside. She did not even think about going back to Janus yet she kept sneaking glances at him.

“umhugmeplease”

Janus blinked at him.

“Excuse you?”

The guest grumbled into his jacket and pulled his knees closer, swollen eyes gleaming with upcoming tears.

“h..hu...hug me.”

Janus Classy Deceit Sanders quirked his head just a bit. He leaned in, closing in on Virgil who was blushing furiously.

“With all my arms?”

Virgil hissed at him.  
He fully hissed at him and simply got up and plopped himself down onto his lap.

“...all of them, idiot..”

Janus gently wrapped the glory of his six full arms all around Virgil’s upper body and held him close.  
The younger side curled up into his arms and buried his face in his neck.

“I missed you, Jan”, he purred out silently.

The addressed side chuckled and tenderly hold him closer. A big sigh came from him and he used one hand to brush through Virgil’s messy hair.

“I missed you, too. I - I am sorry for letting you cry again.”

Virgil made a soft sound in return. It was like a snort but about three times less intense. He shook his head and snuggled closer to his friend.

“Shut up, I cry all the time - so what?”  
He slowly pulled back just enough to look at Janus.  
“It.. you’re there now, aren’t you?”

Janus nodded and relished in the warmth of their hug for a little longer. He had missed Virgil’s hugs. They were the warmest of all hugs due to his big jacket. It was even more special considering Virgil was not always in a hugging mood. He was the person to be vigilant and one step away from either fighting or fleeing since he was in charge of managing fears and reacting or identifying dangers as such and consult other sides as needed.   
Essentially, he was a protector who was always looking out for literally everyone but himself - but at least he had Patton.. well, not really. He had Janus back. That was the real support he had needed. (To be fair, Patton was nice sometimes but pushed everyone too far. Logan did know to look after Anxiety but did not always understand the comfort he needed...and Remus only now came back to him in a way he did not feel scared of being close to him.)

Janus was the care they all needed.

Finally, they got it . Even Virgil received care.

The other carried him away to the couch and snuggled up with him. Deathbringer curled up on Virgil’s cheek as the other finally succumbed to being taken care of himself.  
At last, most sides were taken care of.

“I’m proud of you for caring so much, Virgil”, Janus started, his naked hands still hugging him close while Deathbringer proudly re-claimed the anxious trait as little spot to sunbathe on. Few spots of sun rays sparked through the spaces between the loosely closed blinds.

“m..you’re jus’ happy ‘m here”, Virgil argued, already half-asleep.  
His voice was muffled by not only his jacket but also his sleepy state.

Deceit had to smile at the adorable little scene.

“I could never be happier than knowing you are safe and cared for, Virgil.”

The anxious side cuddled closer into his myriad pairs of arms.

“Shuddup.. jus’ nap w’f me”, he demanded weakly. The stubbornness was real even when he was barely awake.

Deceit chuckled lowly but complied. His hands removed his cape and let it slide down his back. The hat followed and was quickly put aside.  
He snuggled into the comfort with Virgil and drew a blanket over them.

This was mutual care.


End file.
